A   PROPHECY    AND 
953  A   PLEA 


pro 


373 


O) 

5 

U 


JOHN  KENDRICK  BANGS 


OF  THE  TWO  HUNDRED  AND  FIFTY 

COPIES  OF  THIS  BOOK  PRINTED 

THIS  IS  NUMBERED 


A  PROPHECY  AND 
A  PLEA 


A  PROPHECY  AND  A  PLEA 

BEING    FIRST  A    STYGIAN    PROPHECY 
AND  SECOND  A  PLEA  FOR  NATU 
RALISM  .  .  .  TWO  POEMS 
READ    ON    DIVERS 
OCCASIONS 

BY 

JOHN  KENDRICK  BANGS 


PRIVATELY   PRINTED 

AT  NEW  YORK,    ANNO    DOMINI  ONE  THOU 
SAND    EIGHT    HUNDRED   AND   NINETY-SEVEN 


COPYRIGHT,    1897,    BY  JOHN    KBNDRICK   BANGS 


poentf  toere  toritten  for  and  are  belli* 
cateb  to  tfoe  member^  past, 
present  anb  /future  of 
tfc  p 

/Fraternitp 


M149177 


A    STYGIAN    PROPHECY 

WRITTEN  FOR  THE  LITERARY  EXERCISES 
OF    THE   PSI   UPSILON    FRATERNITY 
CONVENTION  :      MIDDLETOWN 
CONNECTICUT,       THURS 
DAY,  MAY  THE  SIXTH 
MDCCCXCVII 


IT  was  midnight  on  the  river,  on  the 
darkling  river  Styx, 
As   the  quaint  old  boat-man  Charon 

paddled  up  to  where  I  stood, 
And  I  had  to  bargain  with  him  to  es 
cape  the  horrid  fix 

I'd  got  into  when  I'd  ventured  through 
the  fearful  Stygian  wood. 


A   STYGIAN    PROPHECY 


There  were  sinful  souls  about  me,  men 

too  wicked  e'en  to  go 
O'er  the  inky  stream  to  Hades  where 

the  furnaces  are  kept, 
And  some  shrieked  aloud  profanely  as 

they  wandered  to  and  fro, 
While  some  others  on  the  pier  front 

gnashed  their  spirit  teeth  and  wept. 


And  although  I  am  not  timid  as  a  rule,  I 

must  admit 
When  1  thought  of  how  these  spirits 

swarming  up  and  down  the  shore 
Were  too  vile  for  them  in  Hades — if  one 

can  imagine  it — 
All  my  nerves  were  in  a  flutter  and  my 

heart  was  sick  and  sore. 


A    STYGIAN    PROPHECY 


They  would  potter  all  about  me,  they 

would  grimace  in  my  face; 
They  would  terrify    my    optics    and 

they'd  horrify  my  ears: 
I'd  have  parted  with  a  fortune  for  a 

chance  to  leave  the  place, 
And  escape  the  horrid  visions  that  had 

so  aroused  my  fears. 


Now  perhaps  1  should  explain  it,  how  I 
happened  to  be  there: 

I  was  not  a  finished  mortal  like  those 
other  sorry  souls, 

I  was  not  a  footsore  climber  of  the  so- 
called  golden  stair; 

But  had  gone  by  invitation  where  the 
inky  river  rolls. 


A   STYGIAN    PROPHECY 


I'd  received  a  note  from  Boswell,  rather, 

word  by  telephone — 
How  the  deuce  he  made  connections  I 

as  yet  don't  understand, 
But  the  word  came  o'er  the  wires  in  a 

deep  profundo  tone, 
"  We've  a  meeting  at  the  House-boat— 

would  you  like  to  be  on  hand  ?" 


I  had  answered,  "  Would  1  ?  Rather ! 
What's  to  be  the  style  of  night? 

Story-tellers,  or  the  poets,  or  a  chafing- 
dish  instead  ?" 

"  Tis  a  meeting  of  the  prophets,"  he  re 
plied,  "  of  prophets  bright, 

Who  will  tell  us  what  is  coming  in  the 
centuries  ahead. 


A   STYGIAN    PROPHECY 

"Old  Isaiah  has  a  notion  that  there's 

lots  of  fun  to  come, 
And  Cassandra  has  a  poem  that  we're 

going  to  let  her  read; 
Jeremiah's  got  a  paper  that  will  strike 

you  mortals  dumb 
With  a  vision  of  the  future  that  we 

think  you'd  better  heed." 


Who  would  not  be  interested  in  an 

evening  of  that  kind  ? 
Who  would  not  receive  a  warning  of  the 

future  if  he  could  ? 
Who  would  lose  a  chance  like  this  one 

to  improve  his  narrow  mind, 
In  despite  of  all  the  terrors  of  that  hor- 

rorific  wood  ? 


A  STYGIAN   PROPHECY 


So  I  jumped  aboard  the  cable  and  I  rode 

for  many  a  mile, 
And  I  stuck  to  it  right  sternly  till  1 

reached  the  hither  bank 
Of  the  unpellucid  river  where  the  people 

seldom  smile, 
Of  the  river  that  of  rivers  is  the  fumidest 

and  dank. 


Then  at  last,  with  much  of  hailing,  boat 
man  Charon  reached  the  pier 

On  a  sort  of  combination  of  canal-boat 
and  a  yacht, 

And  I  asked  him  what  his  fare  was,  and 
he  scratched  his  ancient  ear 

As  he  answered  to  my  question,  "I 
dunno,  sir,  whatcher  got  ?" 


A    STYGIAN    PROPHECY 


And  I  beg  you'll  understand  me  when  I 

say  that  he  said  that— 
Tis  a  rather  free    translation    of  the 

words  that  he  did  speak ; 
For  we  know  of  course  that  Charon  in 

such  English  isn't  pat, 
And  his  only  known  vernacular  is  plain 

Homeric  Greek. 


Furthermore  it  must  be  stated  in  behalf 
of  Charon's  self, 

Lest  I  seem  to  give  the  notion  that  the 
chap  was  full  of  tricks, 

There's  a  tariff  down  in  Hades  that  ex 
cludes  all  foreign  pelf 

And  there's  never  been  a  mortal  got  his 
money  o'er  the  Styx. 

7 


A  STYGIAN    PROPHECY 


They  may  take  an  arrant  pauper  on  that 

other  mystic  shore, 
They  may  take  a  lot  of  folks  in  who  like 

Turpin  shone  for  stealth  ; 
But  they've  built  a  Chinese  wall  there 

that  contains  no  single  door 
To  admit  an  aristocracy  that's  founded 

on  mere  wealth. 


When   I'd  answered  that  I'd  nothing 

Captain  Charon  arched  his  brows— 
"Then  I  fear  I  cannot  take  you,"  he 

replied  and  turned  away  ; 
"I'm  not  in  the  ferry  business  for  the 

fun  of  running  scows, 
And  unless  you'd  like  to  swim  it  I'm 

afraid  you'll  have  to  stay." 

8 


A   STYGIAN    PROPHECY 


Then  a  voice  came  o'er  the  river  broad 

and  deep — a  triple  base, 
Through    a    Megaphone    arrangement 

bringing  out  each  single  note  : 
"Stop  your  jewing! — row  him  over, 

'less  you  want  to  lose  your  place. 
He's  to  be  our  guest  this  evening  at  the 

meeting  on  our  boat." 


"Very  well,  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,"  an 
swered  Charon  turning  pale ; 

"I  was  not  aware  this  person  was  a 
friend  of  yours,  My  Lord. 

1  will  break  the  record  with  him  if  it 
takes  a  ripping  gale." 

And  he  turned  and  said  urbanely, 
"Please  step  lively— all  aboard." 


A   STYGIAN   PROPHECY 


In  just  twenty-seven  seconds  I  was  on 

the  other  bank ; 
The  Committee  of  Arrangements  met  me 

on  the  landing  stage — 
Knightly  Raleigh,  Mr.  Barnum,  princely 

Hamlet,  tall  and  lank, 
Shem  and  Samson,   Dr.  Johnson  and 

Diogenes  the  sage. 


And  by  these  I  was   escorted  to  the 

House-boat  on  the  Styx, 
Where  the  shades  of  every  time  and 

clime  were  gathered  in  great  force, 
Where  they  sat  about  in  camp-chairs, 

an  anachronistic  mix 
That  split  up  one's  cerebellum  like  a  case 

of  real  remorse. 

10 


A   STYGIAN    PROPHECY 


Once  arrived  the  function  started,  Dr. 
Johnson  in  the  chair, 

And  he  spoke  some  words  of  wisdom, 
most  of  which  I  have  forgot ; 

Then  they  brought  out  Jeremiah  and  he 
tore  his  flowing  hair 

As  he  let  us  have  a  future  that  was  boil 
ing  pretty  hot. 


There  was  nothing  that  was  worthy, 

there  was  nothing  that  was  good ; 
There  was  nothing  in  the  future  that 

held  anything  but  woe  ; 
Twas  an  outlook  dark  and  murky  as  a 

vast  primeval  wood ; 
And  the  things  we  mortals  meant  for 

cake  were  certain  to  be  dough. 


A    STYGIAN    PROPHECY 


There  would  be  no  art  or  letters  ;  hand 
made  verse  would  not  be  style  ; 

And  the  novels  of  the  future  would  be 
writ  by  syndicates ; 

All  the  art  that  men  would  worship,  in 
a  very  little  while 

Would  be  fashioned  by  mechanics  with 
a  store  of  stencil  plates. 


There  would  be  no  art  of  cooking,  every 

man  who  wished  to  dine 
In  the  future  would  be  fed  by  table 

d'hotes  made  up  in  pills ; 
Every  man  who  wanted   comfort  and 

for  luxury  did  pine 
As  we  know  it,  would  find  nothing  that 

could  mitigate  his  ills. 


A   STYGIAN    PROPHECY 


I'll  not  bore  you  with  the  paper  in  its 
pessimistic  length. 

It  was  quite  like  Jeremiah  from  begin 
ning  to  its  close ; 

It  was  full  of  lamentation,  and  he  wept 
with  so  much  strength 

That  he  nearly  swamped  the  house-boat 
with  the  tears  that  swept  his  nose. 


But  of  course  when  he  had  finished  he 

received  a  stunning  cheer, 
And   the  spirits   all    applauded    as  of 

course  they  had  to  do, 
As  old  Jerry  left  the  dais  with  a  smile 

from  ear  to  ear, 
With  the  mild  ejaculation  "Well,  I'm 

mighty  glad  I'm  through.'' 

13 


A   STYGIAN    PROPHECY 

Then  the  Doctor  spoke  more  wisdom 

for  an  hour  and  a  half, 
While  the  company  all  chatted  in  a  very 

genial  way ; 
When  uprose  the  sweet  Isaiah  with  a 

happy  sort  of  laugh, 
And  he  cast  a  horoscope  that  turned  old 

Jeremiah  gray. 


It  was  different  from  the  other  in  a  very 

deep-set  sense ; 
For  instead  of  "sanguinary"  it   was 

"  sanguinistic  "  quite. 
All  the  future  would  be  larksome,  all 

our  joys  would  be  intense, 
And  the  world  would  banish  darkness 

and  would  find  its  sorrows  light. 

14 


A   STYGIAN    PROPHECY 


Roses  sweet  would  bloom  in  winter, 
and  the  grass  would  e'er  be  green 

In  the  face  of  deadly  blizzards  and  de 
spite  the  chilling  frost ; 

And  a  smile  upon  the  faces  of  all  people 
would  be  seen 

In  a  time  when  not  a  joy  in  life  by  any 
would  be  lost. 


There  would  be  no  sore  temptations 

and  nobody  would  be  sad, 
Not  a  soul  would  suffer  from  his  woes, 

no  one  infringe  the  laws. 
All  the  world  would  take  its  lexicons 

and  obsolete  the  bad, 
And  no  man  would  be  a  debtor,  for  we'd 

all  be  creditors. 

15 


A   STYGIAN   PROPHECY 


All  his  views  were  optimistic — and  he 
had  a  deal  of  wit, 

And  he  had  a  knack  about  him  that  I 
envied — yes  I  did  ; 

For  his  humor  was  appealing,  and  it  al 
ways  seemed  to  fit— 

He'd  a  sunshine  in  his  nature  of  the  kind 
that  can't  be  hid  ! 


And  of  course  when  he  had  finished  he 

received  a  stunning  cheer, 
All  the  spirits  there  applauded,  as  of 

course  they  had  to  do; 
And  Isaiah  left  the  dais  with  a  smile  from 

ear  to  ear, 
With  the  statement  that  "like  Jerry  he 

was  glad  'twas  over,  too." 

16 


A   STYGIAN   PROPHECY 

After  that  with  some  misgivings,  which 

he  couldn't  well  conceal, 
Johnson  introduced  Cassandra    "who 

was  nothing,"  so  he  said, 
"  But  a  famous  old  new  woman  who'd 

a  notion  to  reveal 
In  a  poem  that  which  to  her  eyes  was 

visible  ahead." 


Then  the  Trojan  prophetess  arose  with 
manner  full  of  pride, 

And  without  a  single  tremor  stood  and 
looked  us  in  the  face. 

"I  came  here  to  read  a  poem,"  she  ob 
served,  "but  I  decide 

It  were  better  far  to  drop  a  hint  to  ben- 
fit  the  race. 


A   STYGIAN   PROPHECY 


"Now  I  know  as  well  as  you  do  that 

I'm  thought  to  be  a  wight 
Who  has  not  one  sixteen-thousandth  of 

a  right  to  prophesy, 
But  as  1  have  sat  and  listened  to  the 

prophecies  to-night, 
It  has  seemed  to  me  your   prophets 

haven't  got  the  eagle  eye. 


"Jeremiah — dear  old  fellow! — has  ob 
served  that  you  will  find 

Everything  that  stands  before  you  is 
identified  with  rue. 

He  has  had  a  vision  darksome  that  unto 
my  weakling  mind, 

Isn't  worth  a  half  a  ducat,  or  the  breath 
of  saying  '  Pooh ! ' 
is 


A   STYGIAN    PROPHECY 

M 


And      Isaiah— charming     prophet  !— 

sweet  Isaiah's  quite  as  bad, 
Though  we've  got  to  give  him  credit  for 

the  picture  that  he  made ; 
It  is  truly  much  more  pleasing  than  a 

vision  sore  and  sad, 
But  that's  where  its  value  ceases,  I  am 

very  much  afraid. 


"  I  admit  I'm  but  a  woman,  but  I  know 

a  thing  or  two. 
I  have  prophesied  for  centuries  and  know 

my  trade,  I  wis. 
But  there's  one  thing  I  must  tell  you 

that  I  think  you  ought  to  do, 
And  that  is  to  drop  what  will  be,  and 

to  think  of  that  which  is. 

19 


A   STYGIAN    PROPHECY 


"  There's  no  use  of  speculations  such  as 

those  that  we  have  had. 
There's  to  be  no  change  in  nature  in  the 

coming  hundred  years. 
There'll  be  just  as  much  of  good  then  in 

proportion  to  the  bad, 
There'll  be  just  as  much  of  smiling  in 

proportion  to  the  tears. 


"We  have  kept  the  world  agoing  for  a 

good  long  bit  of  time, 
And  we've  found  that  human  nature's 

been  the  same  in  every  day. 
We  have  listened  to  forebodings  from 

the  seers  in  every  clime, 
We  have  looked  for   the  millennium 

that's  yet  to  come  our  way. 


20 


A    STYGIAN    PROPHECY 


"And  despite  the  evil  prophets  who 

have  cast  our  horoscope 
Full  of  darkness  and  of  threat'nings,  full 

of  trouble  and  of  doom, 
And  despite  the  sunny  prophets  who 

have  filled  our  souls  with  hope 
We  have  found  the  world  unchanging 

in  its  sunshine  and  its  gloom. 


"  In  the  years  that  stand  before  us  there 

will  be  no  change  in  this — 
Unto  some  they'll  bring  all  gladness, 

unto  others  only  night ; 
Unto  all  will  come  not  trouble  unalloyed, 

nor  purest  bliss, 
As  would  happen  if  you  prophets  who 

have  spoken  tell  us  right. 


A   STYGIAN    PROPHECY 


"  So  instead  of  reading  poems  as  I  stand 

before  you  now 
I  advise  you  steer  your  house-boat — 

steer  it  with  unceasing  care 
Through  the  channel  of  the  present,  set 

her  overhanging  prow 
Twixt  Charybdis  optimistic   and  the 

Scylla  of  despair. 


"  In  conclusion  let  me  tell  you  that  I've 

noticed  as  a  fact— 
And  I'm  getting  rather  aged,  as  I  think 

you  plainly  see — 
That  the  man  who  guides  his  present 

with  a  modicum  of  tact 
Won't  have  any  cause  to  worry  over 

that  which  is  to  be  ! 


22 


A    STYGIAN    PROPHECY 

"  And  the  man  who  takes  his  bitters  as 

they  come  into  his  life 
And  who  in  the  depths  of  sorrow  thinks 

about  the  good  he's  had, 
I  believe  will  find  great  comfort  in  a 

future  wherein  strife 
Is  not  much  in  disproportion   to  the 

things  that  make  him  glad." 


Now  for  you,  my  Psi  U.  brothers,  let 

me  write  one  other  line, 
To  explain  if  need  be  why  I  bring  this 

message  unto  you : 
I  have  promised  to  be  faithful  to  our 

well  beloved  shrine, 
And  1  wish  to  give  it  all  that  I  have 
found  that's  good  and  true. 

23 


A   STYGIAN    PROPHECY 

And  in  my  day  I  have  found  it  well  to 

heed  the  words  of  her 
Who  that  night  in  distant  Hades  told 

the  rules  which  are  the  best 
To  produce  the  life  that's  happy,  which 

will  make  your  pulses  stir 
As  you  realize  e'en  in  your  woes  how 

greatly  you  are  blest ! 


And  as  fair  Cassandra  said  to  us,  so  say 

I  to  you  now  ; 
When  embarking  on  the  sea  of  life, 

steer  with  unceasing  care 
Through  the  channel  of  the  present, 

keep  your  vessel  with  its  prow 
Twixt    Charybdis  optimistic  and  the 

Scylla  of  despair! 
24 


A  PLEA  FOR  NATURALISM 

WRITTEN  FOR  THE  LITERARY  EXERCISES 
OF  THE   PSI  UPSILON   FRATERNITY 

CONVENTION:   NEW  YORK 

APRIL  THE  SEVENTH 

MDCCCXCII 


THE  day  was  well  nigh  spent;  the 
noon  of  night 
Was  soon  to  show  the  dying  year  its 

grave, 

And  merry  chimes,  impatient  to  accord 
A  welcome  to  the  new,  scarce  held  their 

tongues 

In  decent  silence  until  all  was  o'er. 
The  outer  world,  that  in  the  times  of  old 

25 


A    PLEA   FOR   NATURALISM 


Was  used  to  lie  beneath  a  robe  of  white, 
Lay  cold  and  still  and  gray— a  symbol 

fit,  :\ 

A  symbol  of  a  dying  child  of  time 
Whose  course  was  run ;  while  here  and 

there  there  peeped 
Up    through    the   hardened    crust  of 

Mother  Earth 
A  bit  of  green,  which  seemed  a  promise 

sweet 

Of  blest  eternity ;  since  none  shall  die 
Whose  dying  moments  are  not  soothed 

with  hope 

That  there  are  others  on  whose  shoul 
ders  strong 
The  burdens  grown  too  great  to  bear 

shall  fall, 

And   falling,    find    their    Atlas   there. 

Within 

26 


A    PLEA    FOR   NATURALISM 


The  embers  glowed,  and  by  their  light 

I  sat, 

A  watcher,  sad,  alone  ;  the  coming  year 
Was  but  a  hope,  the  present  was  but 

death. 
I  could  not  join  with  them  that  feasted 

then, 
For  watch-night  revelries  bring  to  my 

mind 
The  sin  of  Gertrude  and  that  Danish 

King, 

When  meats  prepared  for  festival  of  woe 
Were  set  scarce  cold  to  deck  a  marriage 

feast. 

As  was  my  wont  I  mused  upon  the  past, 
Revolving  o'er  and  o'er  the  joys  and 

griefs 
Of  this,  the  year  whose  knell  should 

soon  be  tolled. 

27 


A    PLEA   FOR  NATURALISM 


A  casting  of  accounts  it  was  to  see 

If  good  or  ill  were  measured  out  the 

more ; 
And  as  1  mused,  I  saw  where  Nature 

took 
All  undeterred  her  course,  life  seemed 

most  sweet, 
While  what  of  woe  had  been  therein  for 

man 
Had  come  from  acts  rebellious  to  her 

rule. 


Then  suddenly,  afar,  across  the  hills 
The  midnight  bells  began  their  solemn 

dirge — 
A  dirge  that,  as  its  slow  and  measured 

tones 
Rang  sadly  out  upon  the  crisp  night  air, 

28 


A    PLEA    FOR   NATURALISM 


Should  swell  into  an  Ave,  thus  to  greet 
The  advent  of  the  new-born  year.    The 

strokes 

As  each  one  fell  upon  my  ear  I  strove 
To  count,  when  on  a  sudden  all  was  still ; 
The  air  was  scarcely  vibrant  with  the 

sixth 
When  Time  itself  a  moment  seemed  to 

pause. 
My  soul  was  awed ;  in  wonderment  my 

eyes 

Roved  over  all,  and  with  my  ears  attent 
I  listened  for  the  strokes  completing 

twelve ; 
And  as  I  listened  then  there  came  a 

sound 

As  of  the  voice  of  one  of  wisdom  ripe 
Addressing  one  he  loved,  in  whom  his 

hope 

29 


A   PLEA   FOR   NATURALISM 


Was  centered— words  a  dying  father 

might 
Have  whispered  to  a  well-beloved  son. 


And,  as  the  words  came,  1  could  see  two 

forms: 
Upon  my  right  a  sturdy  youth  there 

sat, 

Who  gazed  in  rapt  attention  on  the  face 
Of  him  who  spoke ;  the  speaker,  bent 

with  age, 
His  patriarchal  beard  snow  white,  his 

eye, 
Which  dissolution  soon  should  glaze, 

most  bright, 

Sat  to  the  left  of  me— the  meeting  'twas 
Of  him  whose  work  was  done  and  that 

one  who 


A    PLEA    FOR   NATURALISM 

Was  now  to  take  his  place — of  one  who 

saw 
Wherein  his  failures  lay,  and  now  had 

come 

To  point  another  to  the  path  of  Truth  ; 
And,  tremulously    voiced,   his    words 

were  these : 

"This  is  an  age  of  artifice,  my  son— 
An  age  wherein  the  artificial  stands 
More    honored   far    than   that    which 

Nature  makes— 

A  lesson  I  have  learned  in  bitterness. 
When,  one  long  year  agone,  I  stood  as 

you 
Now  stand  upon  the  threshold  of  your 

time, 

No  one  was  there  to  indicate  to  me 
Where  pitfalls  lay,  and  to   direct  my 

thoughts 


A   PLEA   FOR   NATURALISM 

To  channels  which  should  upward  lead 

mankind. 

I  had  no  mentor,  boy,  to  give  to  me, 
As  I  now  give  to  you,  one  hint  of  that 
Surpassing  opportunity,  now  lost, 
To  lead  man  back  from  those  unstable 

heights 
From  which  he  now  looks  down  upon 

the  plain 
Where  Nature  rests — back  to  her  loving 

arms 

Who  is  the  mother  blest  of  every  good- 
Back  from  the  clouds  of  unreality 
Into  the  world  that  breathes  the  living 

God. 
In  letters  what  do  men  to-day  ?   They 

wield 

A  marvelously  pretty  pen  ;  their  works 
Voluminous  and  graceful  multiply, 

33 


A   PLEA   FOR   NATURALISM 

Upbuilding  monuments — of  thought? 

Ah,  no ! 

But  shafts  of  words  in  memory  of  Style — 
Mosaics  with  surpassing  beauty 

phrased— 
But  yet  as  hard,  and  cold,  and  void  of 

truth 

As  any  stone-depicted  scene  must  be. 
In  poetry  we  find  most  tender  hearts 
Engaged  with  pretty  thoughts  as  like 

to  those 
Of  Shakespeare  and  of  Milton  as  the 

lakes 

That  snuggle  in  the  mountain  fastnesses 
Are  like  the  broad  and  unrestrained 

sea ; 
Their  days  are  spent  confining  flies  of 

thought 
In  deep  and  mellow  amber  cages  till 

33 


A    PLEA    FOR   NATURALISM 

You're  conscious  of  the  amber— not  the 

fly.  j* 

Blind  worshippers  of  form  are  they — of 

form 
Man-made,  and   not   that  wondrous, 

beautiful, 
Though  shapeless  seeming  form  that 

bears  the  stamp 
Which  shows   it  heaven  sent — sweet 

Nature's  own  ; 
Of  form  which  drives  from  great  to  little 

things, 
Destroys  man's  potency  to  move  the 

heart, 
And  gives  instead  a  fleeting  thrill  to 

sense  ; 
Of  form  which  holds  in  bondage  genius 

e'en, 
So  that  our  poets,  e'en  the  most  inspired, 

34 


A    PLEA   FOR   NATURALISM 

Seem  rhymesters  of  the  garden  close 

and  not 

The  minstrels  of  the  hills,  the  wilder 
ness, 

Who  sing  the  Anthems  of  the  Universe. 
Our  novelists,  when  they  essay  the  real, 
Are  bound  to  be  romancers  all,  because 
The  ways  of  man  so  artificial  are 
They  have   no  slightest  semblance  to 

that  mode 
Of  living   here  which   Nature  would 

prescribe. 

In  artifice  are  all  things  reared  ;  by  it 
Are  all  things  formed — nor   matters  it 

one  jot 

Where  you   may  look,  that  most  ac 
cursed  taint 

Of  so-called  art  hath  sicklied  o'er  all 
things 

35 


A   PLEA   FOR  NATURALISM 


With  that  most  dreadful  pallor  which 

precedes 

No  less  a  thing  than  death.     Man  can 
not  live 

In  insincerity  always  ;  no  more 
Can  aught  else  in  the  universe  exist 
Which    most    persistent    everywhere 

pursues 

That  corruscating  will-o'-wisp,  Untruth. 
Our  painters,  would  they  be  content  to 

tread 
Where   Nature   leads,    her    followers 

become, 
Might  take  us  back  to  those  immortal 

days 
When  masters  were ;  when   it   were 

heresy 
For  mortal  hands  e'en  to  so  much  as 

hint 

36 


A    PLEA   FOR   NATURALISM 

That  Nature  might  do  better  could  she 

see 
Through  mortal  eyes  ;  why,  boy,  but 

yesterday 

I  saw  a  canvas  by  a  man  of  fame 
Depicting  scenes  he  never  saw,  effects 
Of  so-called  light  and  color  which  have 

come 
From  nothing  less  than  dreams  induced 

by  strong 

Potations  in  a  mind  diseased,  malformed. 
And  on  their  knees  before  this  self-same 

work, 
The  critics  worshipped  and  its  author 

hailed 
As  one  inspired — as  one  to  whom  was 

sent 
A  gift  divine  from  God  on  high.    The 

gift  .;;cbui!-r/' 

37 


A   PLEA    FOR    NATURALISM 


Was  God's,  the  instrument,  alas !  was 

weak. 

A  chosen  soul  intrusted  with  His  work 
Was  swerved  from  duty's    path    and 

made  to  lie 

Prostrate  before  this  Juggernaut  of  Art ! 
The  stage  hath  artifice  unspeakable. 
And  in  the  mart  men  purchase  and  then 

sell 

For  uncoined,  undiscoverable  gold, 
Unplanted     grains    and    non-existent 

shares. 
Tis  found  in  churches — day  by  day  we 

seem 
To  wander  farther  from  the  simplest 

truths ; 

We're  so  befogged  by  articles  of  faith, 
By    dogmas    of    the   church,    things 

orthodox, 

38 


A    PLEA    FOR    NATURALISM 


That  worthy  spirits  choose  the  simplest 

texts 

And  cover  reams  of  paper  to  explain 
What  should  be  patent  to  the  weakest 

mind — 
Not  only  should,  but  would  be  patent 

had 

Man  made  one  slightest  effort  to  retain 
Their  sweet  simplicity,  and  to  prevent 
The  priests  of  Sect,  of  Form,  of  Artifice 
From  weaving  round  about  them  till 

obscure 
The   web    of    Dogma,    Satan's    own 

device. 

In  life  political  not  conscience  rules; 
Expediency,  artifice,  holds  sway, 
And  nations  find  themselves  divided  on 
The  problems  which  the  plainest  com 
mon  sense, 


A   PLEA   FOR   NATURALISM 

Plus  honesty,  could  in    one  moment 

solve : 

And  they  who  seek  our  highest  offices 
Must    bend    before    machines — those 

Frankensteins 

Of  politics,  which  ever  sacrifice 
The  country's  good  to  politicians'  greed, 
And   conscience  withers  'neath   ambi 
tion's  lust. 

The  remedy  ?  Tis  Nature— that  is  all. 
Let  Nature  once  again  assert  her  power : 
Let  Nature  say  to  man,  '  Tis  mine  to 

rule, 

Thine  to  obey,'  and  it  is  done — and  once 
'Tis  done,  man  hath  an  ally  to  insure 
Complete  attainment  of  his  cherished 

ends; 

And  messages  of  God  through  mortals 
sent 

40 


A    PLEA    FOR   NATURALISM 


Will  surer  reach  their  destination  here, 
Will  surer  reach  the  hearts  of  those 

whose  place 

In  meekness  'tis  to  listen,  not  to  lead. 
And  ere  I  leave  thee,  boy,  I  beg  thee 

take 
The  words  of  one  who's  learned  the 

truth  to  heart. 

And  let  it  be  thy  task  to  show  to  him 
Who  follows  after  thee  the  work  begun 
Of  reinstating  Nature  on  her  throne ; 
Of  placing  man  where  he  should  be- 
below, 
And  not  above.    Not  this  for  Nature's 

sake, 

But  that  usurping  man  himself  may  take 
That  lofty  place  in  this  grand  universe 
Which  will  be   his   if  he  but  choose 
aright 


A    PLEA    FOR   NATURALISM 


The  path  thereto — 'neath  Nature's  guid 
ing  hand." 


The  bells,  resuming,  tolled  the  seventh 

stroke, 
And  on  the  eighth  the  youth  rose  up  and 

strode 

To  where  the  old  man  sat ;  then,  kneel 
ing  there, 
He  kissed  his  hand.    The  other  sadly 

smiled  ; 
The  forehead  of  the  youth  he  kissed, 

and  as 
The  last  completing  stroke  of  twelve 

rang  out, 
Passed  from  my  sight.    Again  was   I 

alone ; 
Yet  not  alone,  for  with  me  rested  HOPE. 


M149477 


Bangs  ,J.Kj 


953 

B216 
ro 


A  prcnhecj 


r  and  a  plea 


ase 


M149477 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


YC148192 


